All the Small Things
by theMidnight.Rainfall
Summary: The two of them have a lot more in common than they've ever realized. It's strange and possibly relieving all at the same time. Jerome and Patricia.


_**A L L T H E S M A L L T H I N G S**_

_**Word Count:**_ 5015

_**Disclaimer:**_ Fanfiction means I'm obviously a fan.

**_A/N:_** _This is something that has been bothering me since I rewatched series one and I feel that the writers completely missed a golden opportunity for characterization and development here. This is basically my take on a conversation that should have happened. I have no idea how this reached 5000 words, especially when this was supposed to be a romanc-y story and that didn't happen. I'm actually quite proud of myself with this._

•○•○•

She's actually looking for Alfie – Nina's called another Sibuna meeting tonight to discuss what they're going to do prom night – when she finds the dirty-blond instead. Even though she automatically notes Alfie's absence from the room and therefore has no need to still be there, she can't help but stop and watch him. He's not doing anything special – he's only lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. But it's this very fact that boggles her mind.

He hasn't noticed her.

It bothers her for some reason. After all, she's known him for years and he _always_ knows when someone has entered a room. He'll say a word or at least glance to whoever it is, but, no, he's just staring up at the ceiling, and now this uncomfortable feeling is sweeping over her because this is just too weird, even for him.

It's then that it hits her.

Something is wrong.

She's not sure what to do. On the one hand, he could be pretending that he doesn't notice her, and in that case it would mean he's ignoring her – most likely over the fact that they won't tell him anything about the puzzle pieces, but he really needs to get over it. Of course there's also the alternative… that he actually doesn't realize she's in the room, but that's unlikely considering she's been standing there for the past minute.

"…Jerome?" she asks. He jumps and she's mildly surprised. Her normal tone of voice has a measure of irritation in it, yeah, but maybe she went overboard this ti –

He_ jumped_.

Patricia feels her brows furrow in confusion as she stares at him. She can't remember the last time Jerome, of all people, was in any way surprised or, for that matter, _frightened_. He's usually too busy causing other people to be afraid to have time to feel the same way…

"Did you want something, Trixie?" he prods softly. It's strange, that tone he uses – he says her nickname so delicately – and her ears almost can't handle it. It's not right.

"Yeah," she remembers, trying to shake off her gut feeling. It's not in her to ask if he's alright anyway. "Have you seen Alfie?"

"Al…Alfie?" He thinks about this for a moment, and Patricia can't help but wonder if, for a moment, he's forgotten who Alfie even is. He glances to the other side of the room before looking back to her and shaking his head. "No. No, I haven't. Why?"

"I-I needed to talk to him about..." She pauses, bites her lip. She doesn't need to provide any more details. It's easy to tell by the way Jerome's face lights up that he knows what she's planning to discuss even though she'd rather him not know. She's not really sure what to make of his face – it's like he's intrigued, fearful, and ashamed all at once – so she opts for the easy choice.

She looks away.

Much to her chagrin, he's no fool. For as long as they've known each other, she knows his tendencies and he knows hers. That's why she isn't surprised when he attempts to amend the situation again – _what is this, the hundredth time?_ – and she wants to run away, but the way he says her name... it evokes something within her.

"Patricia…" Three syllables never sounded so sweet, but coming from him… they sound stranger than anything else, so foreign.

She looks back to him, and then swallows when she regrets it. Looking into those blue-grey eyes, the desperate longing in them, Patricia doesn't know what she should be thinking. Is this what empathy feels like? Sympathy? She isn't sure and it doesn't help that she doesn't even know what the difference between the two is anyway. This is Jerome, after all. The slimeball has never needed her concern before and she's never felt the need to give it.

"What?" she sighs, trying to at least be civil. She's tired of arguing with him, with everyone.

He doesn't say anything at first and the silence is tantalizing. She doesn't want to deal with this right now. She'd rather leave and find Alfie. He's been her refuge lately. She's come to love the fact that he makes everything simpler in his own optimistic way. It's so much better than standing here with Jerome looking her over, analyzing her or something. She almost snaps at him, but he beats her to it.

"…You don't trust me either, do you?" His voice is small, too small to be Jerome's and she doesn't know what he's been sitting there in his bed thinking about, but it's she doesn't like it. Patricia doesn't know what to do.

So she opts for what comes easy.

"What, have you been sitting here moping about that all day?" She rolls her eyes, ignoring any and all thoughts about being _nice_ to this jerk. "It's your own fault! We don't trust you and then you went through Nina's things looking for the puzzle pieces! If she hadn't caught you, you'd have already sold all of us out and you expect – "

"I know!" he shouts, standing as he cuts her off. She sneers and raises an eyebrow, standing her ground. Sure he knows what he's done, but he probably doesn't realize the repercussions just yet. And if he's about to get in her face about it, well, he should know he has another thing coming. "I know," he repeats, in a more normal tone.

The way he's looking at her – that face he uses solely when he's actually trying to be serious for once – Patricia's not sure she can take it much longer. It's this Jerome she can't handle, the one who cares, the one who actually gives him some semblance of being a normal human being… she can't do it. She's used to the Jerome who jokes and makes fun of her and tries to ruin everyone else's happiness. He is normal, _easy_. The Jerome before her right now scares her.

"I just…" He takes a breath, runs a hand through his hair. "I…I made a mistake."

Patricia snorts and opens her mouth to give him one of her usual sarcastic retorts, but he beats her to it again.

"I made a mistake," he repeats, clenching his jaw. He's not angry with her – she's never seen Jerome angry and she easily assumes this isn't it – but she's obviously frustrating him. Normally she'd take this in stride, be proud of her accomplishment. Right now, however, his frustration is making her nervous. It only makes her more anxious when he takes another breath to calm himself.

This is too weird.

She needs to leave.

"Look, will you just hear me out?" he asks, and it's almost as if he's begging her to stay, as if he knows she's considering walking out. The way she's looking at him must mirror her thoughts of how ridiculous she thinks this is because he continues, even more desperate than before. If that could even be said. "Trixie, please."

She looks up at him, into his blue-grey eyes, into those eyes that say everything that his words just can't, and she doesn't want to deal with this Jerome anymore and where is Alfie because he makes her less uncomfortable in any given situation and – he's looking at her like he _needs_ her. Patricia isn't used to being needed by anyone, let alone this slimeball and it unnerves her just enough to leave her unable to push her upsetting feelings – sympathy, empathy? Whatever they're called – away.

"Fine," she sighs, rolling her eyes as she walks away from the doorway further into his room if only so she doesn't have to register the nervous elation that has swept through Jerome's eyes. He delicately closes the door as she sits at the foot of his bed, looking anywhere but at him – at Alfie's silly alien movie posters, the pile of dirty clothes on the floor – as she waits for him to join her.

He sits on the opposite end of the bed, but doesn't say anything else for a moment. He's simply looking her over again and she sees him swallow as if he's nervous. It's so strange.

"Well, what is it?" she asks sharply. She's hoping her discomfort isn't showing, that he'll just think this is regular, unmanageable Patricia. Maybe he'll drop it.

"You…" he starts, but then his voice breaks and Patricia just wants him to get on with it, "You of all people… You dealt with Rufus Zeno –"

"Don't start comparing me to you, Clarke! That was a totally different circumstance and you know it!"

"Oh, was it really? I _didn't know_ who he was at all – no thanks to any of you – and –"

"It isn't any of _our_ faults you can't stay out of everyone else's business!" She stands, glaring down at him.

"Patricia, I'm not trying to blame –"

"Well then what do you want?"

"I thought you might understand," he chokes out, standing up himself as their voices escalate. Patricia folds her arms across her chest in anger, in an attempt to remind herself not to think about it.

"Understand what?" she spits. "That you're so pathetic you'd sell out all our hard work because you want to earn a few bucks?"

"He scares me!"

Patricia doesn't immediately say anything, can't immediately say anything. The fact that everyone in Sibuna is afraid of Rufus Zeno isn't something they've discussed – it's become an unspoken piece of knowledge, something instinctively understood by everyone involved. Patricia isn't sure how to deal with it out in the air, lingering there. She's only reassured by the fact that, by the way Jerome's frozen the same as she, he seems to be having similar issues.

He recovers more quickly than she, and takes advantage of her inability to communicate.

"That man absolutely terrifies me," he continues, stressing every syllable of every word. "I didn't think he'd come looking for me if I stopped seeking him out, but I was wrong. He directly threatened to kill me yesterday! The rest of your little Scooby gang might not understand what that feels like, but I thought…"

He lightly touches her shoulder, but she instantly pulls back.

"Don't touch me," she mumbles, hoping he doesn't finish his sentence, knowing what he's going to say.

"I thought you'd understand what that feels like."

This time the silence isn't broken so easily. This time he's waiting for her to say something, but Patricia won't even look at him. She can't handle all of these old feelings resurfacing – the fear, the nervousness, everything. All this time she's been trying to ignore them, ignore the fact that her nightmares still haven't gone away, ignore the fear that everyone will leave her alone, a fear that formed long ago but is now resurfacing through present events.

But she can't tell him that. He'll only laugh at her, say that he was only trying to get a rise out of her and she should see the silly look on her face. She's tired of being called a fool, a nutcase. She had enough of that with her "Where's Joy" inquiries. She won't stand for it again.

Then she looks at him and her resolve is lost.

Everything she's been holding back for weeks erupts inside her.

_Everything hurts._

"Of course I understand!" she exclaims, trying to cover up her lapse as she remembers just who she is. Patricia Williamson does not give in to petty emotions, not when there are other things at stake. "That's not the kind of thing you forget. What do you care if I 'understand' anyway?"

"I –"

But he doesn't finish his sentence and the two find themselves surrounded by silence yet again.

And somehow, in that moment, Patricia realizes that he doesn't need to explain himself. Somehow, she understands what he's feeling, what he doesn't want to admit – she understands it all. Or, at least, she thinks she does. After all, when she thinks about it, she and Jerome are more alike than they realize. They've both got tough exteriors, they're both selfish, they both care more about their closest friends than anything else.

And they've both been almost completely ostracized.

It dawns on her how eerily similar it is, the way she and the others look at Jerome as if he were crazy for betraying them, for consorting with the enemy. It's the same way they used to look at her, before they discovered that her conspiracy theory was true and that she wasn't going insane worrying about Joy's disappearance every five seconds.

The more she thinks about it, the more she hates Jerome for bringing this entire thing up. Too many emotions are coursing through her, too many emotions for her to handle.

But she doesn't hate him. She can't.

Jerome is right. Patricia understands perfectly how he feels.

It would be so easy for her to just walk away and pretend as if she didn't, but something inside of her knows that would just be wrong. She can't do that to him. Everyone left her alone. She won't leave him the same way – she can't. Something in her won't let her.

"You're not crazy," she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft, uncharacteristically quiet.

"What?" He looks at her, confusion spreading across his face and she doesn't know if it's because he didn't hear her or because she sounds crazy again. She can't seem to find it in herself to care.

Patricia steps forward and wraps her arms around the boy in front of her, embracing him in a way she's never done before. A voice in the back of her head relates to her how very strange this is, but she isn't listening to it and she can't really hear it anyway, what with every single thought that's been haunting her this term floating around her mind. It's too much for her, all these thoughts jumping out from the dark crevices she's pushed them to.

_They've killed Joy._

_No one believes me._

_This madman is going to kill me._

_No one understands._

A part of her registers that it takes Jerome a moment to process the situation. She can tell by the way he tenses when she first touches him, and then relaxes a bit, placing a hand on her back tentatively, as if this is the strangest thing he's ever experienced. Patricia doesn't blame him. She doesn't really understand what's come over her either.

"You're not crazy," she mumbles into his chest, and when she feels something warm and wet on her cheek, she doesn't want to think about what it is. She doesn't want to think about the way Jerome will surely mock her about this later. She doesn't want to think about anything except the fact that all of the pressure of everything that's happened this year has been building up inside of her and now it's bursting and she doesn't know what to do with herself.

What scares her the most is that a part of her knows that this boy she's hugging is the only one who remotely understands the pain she's been through. He almost lost his best mate and she almost lost hers. He was tricked by someone he thought he could trust the same way she was. It's ridiculous that she didn't see the connection before.

"Trixie…" He sounds genuinely surprised – she doesn't blame him; he's never seen this side of her before – but he doesn't ask her if she's alright. She feels a hand touch the back of her head while the other caresses her back and it's almost as if he's trying to…make her feel better. Patricia knows from experience that Jerome doesn't usually take well to cheering others up – and she knows she's not the best at it either – but somehow this is much better because somehow she knows that he understands.

Because she understands.

They stay there like that for a long moment, just the two of them; neither saying a word, neither having to. Later on Patricia will be curious that no one heard their yelling, that no one came to check on them. (She'll then realize that it was probably better that way, that she doesn't want anyone to see her this way, that she's used to no one caring anyway.) For now, though, she's focused on the voices going around in her head, the fact that she didn't realize that she knows where he stands because she was there once too, because she just might still be there.

When she steps back, he looks her over, giving her the strangest gaze as she wipes her eyes. It's weird and she isn't sure she's ever seen him look this way – no. That's wrong. She has seen this exact look before, she remembers it clearly, that day in the bathroom when he was just standing there, waiting for her. When he was worried sick about Alfie.

It had scared her, the way he was looking, so she'd gone for the mocking road, the easy road, something they were both used to. (It's strange knowing someone like Jerome Clarke could care about anyone that much.) It hadn't gone over too well that time – he'd gotten upset with her the same way he had earlier in this conversation.

So she opts for something different this time.

She's already in too deep as it is.

She doesn't turn away this time, doesn't mock the stupid, caring gleam in his eyes. Instead she smiles at him, sits back on his bed. Patricia isn't going to run away this time because maybe… maybe she really needs this. She hasn't talked to anyone aside from Alfie about this and even then she only told him little. As Jerome sits back down beside her, obviously unnerved by her unusual, albeit small, show of emotion, Patricia can't help but think that he needs this just as much.

Still…

"Stop looking at me like that." She can't help it – Patricia isn't used to this side of Jerome and she still hasn't exactly registered that it exists, that everything that's just happened is very, very _real_.

"What?" he frowns, raising an eyebrow at her.

"That look," she says in an attempt to explain. "You look sad, concerned, confused, afraid – everything all at once."

"Well, I am concerned."

"Well, it doesn't suit you."

They stare at each other and then – they can't help it; this is too weird – they start laughing. It isn't simple giggling or chuckles either. They fill the room – this room that had just been previously filled with a thick layer of silence – with loud, hearty laughter.

"Your face, though," she says in between laughs. "You looked like sad puppy!"

"What?" Somehow this makes him laugh harder and louder and she finds her laughter growing steadily louder as well. "If I looked like a sad puppy, then you looked like a stray cat caught in the rain!"

"Yeah right!"

They laugh for a few moments longer and as Patricia tries to bring herself back to her normal countenance, she finds she can only focus on Jerome's eyes on her. He's doing it again, looking her over, and she doesn't understand why.

"Really, Trixie – you alright?" he asks. Patricia can't help but give him a blank stare. She bends her head forward, raising her eyebrows as she squints her eyes a bit – giving him that classic 'Patricia look' – and he can't help but return her look with a roll of his eyes. "I mean, I didn't mean to… You don't normally…"

"Get all emotional?" she finishes for him. "Well, if you hadn't noticed, I don't really enjoy it when slimeballs like you see me anything like that… this." She swallows, realizing now that she's said it that he just saw her let her wall down.

Knowing Jerome as well as she does, she doesn't like it. He's notorious for twisting emotions, after all.

"I'm not really big on it myself either," he replies, glancing to the door, around the room. "Gives people too much leverage over you – they can use it against you." It's when he looks back at Patricia that she can tell he just realized what he just told her, that it wasn't something he usually admits aloud.

"Yeah…" she nods, knowing exactly how much she agrees. Patricia's only ever trusted a few people with her secrets, and even then it was sparingly. She's always had trust issues and they were only amplified by Joy's disappearance and subsequent events… The teachers' mysterious actions, the police, no one believing her, Rufus Zeno…

He completely betrayed her trust, completely used her solely because she was ignorant.

"You can't always trust the people you think you can."

Patricia can't look him in the eye again, mostly because she's uncomfortable with where this conversation is leading. Even though she's slowly coming to terms with the fact that the boy in front of her understands what happened to her better than anyone else she knows, she can't seem to get past the fact that this is _Jerome Clarke_ and he is _not_ to be trusted.

He's a jerk.

He doesn't take anything seriously.

"Does…does it still bother you?" he asks, cocking his head to the side. Patricia knows exactly what he's referring to and she doesn't need him to clarify – she almost wishes he wouldn't. "All that with…Rufus?"

She almost doesn't answer him.

In fact, she considers diverting the question elsewhere. She's not sure if she's comfortable talking about what happened yet. It's been a while, certainly, but that man is still out there. He's still a threat. He still keeps her up at night. And she can't help but wonder…if they are so much alike, she and Jerome, she can't help but wonder how he feels about it.

"Does it still bother you?" she decides to ask in return.

He takes a breath, probably debating answering the question the same way she just did, but then nods his head, and says, "Yeah" in an almost-whisper.

"I thought as much," she replies, nodding her head herself, and she knows then that they both just know without any other words what the other one is thinking, feeling.

And that's when she takes a chance and tells him everything. She tells him about how the mere mention of Rufus Zeno puts her on edge, how she tenses up and no one seems to notice. She tells him about her nightmares and how she couldn't sleep for an entire week after the man kidnapped her, how she told Alfie about having the nightmares but not mentioning who was in them specifically, how she hasn't mentioned to Alfie that her nightmares haven't gone away even though she's followed his advice to a T. She tells him that she's just as terrified as he is.

In return, Jerome admits to her that he's had nightmares about it as well, that he doesn't feel as safe as anyone else in the house, that he feels like he's being watched everywhere he goes. He tells her that he doesn't trust people on principle, that it's just a part of who he is, so he doesn't expect people to trust him. He confesses that it bothers him, knowing that no one trusts him the way he'd like, but that his fear of Rufus Zeno is much worse. He tells her that he doesn't understand anything that's going on and that maybe…he just wants a place to belong.

She nods, saying that she feels absolutely alone sometimes. No one else knows what it's like to suddenly not know what's happened to their best friend, to suddenly realize that they could be killed on the spot. She's surprised when Jerome pats his hand tentatively on her knee. She's not sure how she feels about this act of care, but she knows he's just as confused about it as she is.

Alfie chooses this moment to walk in. He's clad in an outrageous outfit – bright pink and frilly with a multi-colored jester's hat – and Patricia immediately assumes this is some other antic to get Amber to like him. He pauses as he catches site of the two of them on Jerome's bed. His eyebrows scrunch together and it's obvious how confused he is by the situation.

"Am I missing something here?" he asks. "I mean, do you two realize how strange you look?"

Patricia shares a look with Jerome and the two burst out into laughter again, leaving Alfie even more confused than when he entered.

"Us?" she asks in between laughs.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately, mate?" Jerome finishes.

Alfie rolls his eyes, walks to his side of the room, and starts looking through some of his things. Patricia can only imagine what he's looking for – something to go with his outfit, certainly, but she can't think of anything that would make him look any less…ridiculous.

"Lost your brain, Aflie?" she asks. "Not sure you'll find it in here."

"Ha ha," Alfie replies, tossing a pillow in her direction. Patricia moves to the side in an attempt to avoid getting hit, but the pillow still grazes over the top of her shoulder and hits Jerome. He chucks it back the way it came, only to have it hit Patricia square in the face. His eyes widen as he holds his hands in front of him in an act of submission. She makes a face, obviously trying not to smile.

"I meant to hit –" Jerome is cut off as she whacks him atop the head with the pillow and they burst into more laughter. "Alfie!"

"Yes, well, accidents happen," she replies, shrugging.

Jerome snatches the pillow out her hands and mouths the word, 'duck', to which Patricia immediately obeys. This time it hits the mark and Alfie's hat falls to the ground alongside it. He turns to the two of them, squinting his eyes – though it's obvious by the glint in them that he's amused – and points a finger in their general direction.

"You two are conspiring against me, aren't you?"

"Conspiring…?" Patricia stares at him incredulously.

"Yes! You're trying to ruin my audition, aren't you?" he accuses, moving closer.

"What?" Jerome and Patricia both ask in unison, sharing a look.

"What in the world are you auditioning for that you need to wear…_that_?" Jerome continues.

"Ah! That is the secret!" Alfie tells him, turning back to his side of the room. He bends down to pick up his jester's hat, and Patricia and Jerome take that time to share another look. Patricia has come to find that when Alfie's involved, it's needless to ask questions. "And it's not one that I can share with either of you!"

"Alright then…" Patricia says with a laugh.

"But for now, the two of you need to exit stage right," he continues, shooing them away. They both stand up and Patricia at least makes to go, but Jerome is a little more stubborn.

"This is my room, too, you know," he counters, but Alfie simply pushes him out the door. He stands in between the door and the doorframe to give his final words.

"I need it to myself for a while." And with that, he shuts – and audibly locks – the door, leaving Jerome and Patricia out in the hallway to fend for themselves. Patricia isn't sure how they got kicked out of the room in such a quick manner, but she's not exactly inhibited by it.

"Well, that was…" she starts.

"Weird?"

"Really."

The two laugh and Patricia isn't sure why she's so comforted by his laugh all of a sudden. In fact, she finds she feels loads better after letting loose her feelings to Jerome and having a laugh at Alfie's expense with the blond than she would have ever imagined. She supposes it's true then, that it really is nice knowing someone feels the same as she does about things.

"You can talk to me, you know," he tells her after a moment.

"Huh?" She raises an eyebrow.

"I mean…I just…it's nice, knowing there's someone else here who actually gets where I'm coming from," he explains, if a bit difficultly and Patricia can't fault him for it this time. She understands what it's like not feeling comfortable expressing feelings.

"Even if you're going about things the wrong way."

"Right; I'm a jerk. I get it," he says, rolling his eyes.

Instantly knowing that she doesn't like his feeling upset over this – they _just _talked about it – she shoves him playfully, attempting to think up something nice to say. Consoling people has never been her strong point, but she doesn't want Jerome to feel so left out. She knows too well what that's like.

"That's true, but…you're not absolutely terrible."

"You're just – "

"I am not just saying that. You listened to me whine for about half an hour. I'd say that means you've got something good in you," she continues, starting to think that maybe she's getting a bit awkward. Sometimes she wonders why she can't be like Mara – that girl's going to be a great mother one day. She can make anyone feel better in an instant. All Patricia can do is make people feel terrible and that's not really useful in –

"Right, well, thanks for listening to me as well," he replies, about just as awkwardly.

Before Patricia has a chance to respond – or maybe this is just a bit of godsend considering – she hears Nina calling for her from the kitchen. They're both on kitchen duty tonight and she needs help setting the table. She smiles at Jerome and then turns to walk to the kitchen.

"You can talk to me if you need to…"

She stops, turns around, smiles. "You can too." At that, he shares her smile and she walks into the kitchen a little unsure of herself, a little at peace.

And then she realizes that she completely forgot to tell Alfie about the Sibuna meeting.

But maybe, for now, that doesn't really matter.


End file.
